


Bolton's Beastly Books

by kestra_troi



Series: Inspired by YOU [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chaptered, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Incomplete, Inspired by Novel, Internal Monologue, Mentions of Rape, Misogyny, No Plot/Plotless, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Not Beta Read, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV First Person, POV Ramsay Bolton, Past Rape/Non-con, Public Masturbation, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Rape Fantasy, Slow To Update, Stalking, Stream of Consciousness, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kestra_troi/pseuds/kestra_troi
Summary: Follow Ramsay as he 'falls in love' with a women he meets at the bookstore where he works. Nothing good can come of this.This work is unfinished and I will be adding chapters as I write them, so this will probably take awhile.[The First Chapter is a repost of my ficlet included in my "Bits of Stuff 3". The rest will be new/not previously posted.]
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Inspired by YOU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606744
Kudos: 10





	1. You & Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by YOU written by Caroline Kepnes. While I read her book I couldn't help but picture Ramsay in some of the scenes. You don't have to have read that book to read/understand this fic and I won't be following the book's plot because as bad as Joe (the main character in YOU) is, Ramsay is so much worse.

Crop top, no bra... 

Oh, you little skank. 

I smile as you walk through my door, backlit by the afternoon sun. Your top isn’t thin enough to see through, but even the stripes aren’t enough to hide the curves your so proud of. You’ve got great tits, babe. I can practically feel their fullness in my hands already. Good heft, perky. My hands itch. 

I want you. 

Want to touch that soft skin. All those curves. 

You’re not the kind of girl I usually go for. Those petite, slim girls with little bird bones. You are solid. A real Earth Mother vibe with your black and white striped crop top and flower print skirt that hugs your round hips. I’ve caught you in the sweet spot between virgin and mother when you’re still young enough to be skanky, but old enough not to be a whore. You don’t pop your cork for every guy you see, no matter what your bralessness would make them believe. 

I like your confidence. Fearlessness. Are you wearing panties, babe? You probably are, but for me when we’re together you won’t. I am going to take you, have you, fuck you everywhere and anywhere. In my scenario you’re always prepped for me. Underwearless and shameless. I’d love to shove you against the stacks and have you right here, right now. 

You’d fight me. You’d go down swinging, but you’d still go down with me on top of you and inside you. Yes, it would be rape, but we could get passed that. In time, you’d learn to love it. You’d learn to take it happily, whether you were wet or not, whether you wanted it or not. My hands clench into fists.

You’ve got spirit, babe. I can tell just by looking at you while you glance around the shelves. That fire, that spark. It calls to me, babe. You call to me. You want this. You want me to see you, to notice you, to want you. 

And I do. 

You little skank. 

I can’t wait to chase you.

Relaxing my hands, I help out some loser. He doesn’t make small talk thank God, but he does have this awkward, twitchy I-need-to-crawl-back-in-my-hole-and-jerk-off-to-tranny-porn kinda vibe and I am so glad he’s gone before you arrive. 

You come right up to me, books in hand, ready to purchase. 

You smile at me. 

I smile back.

So far, so good, babe.

You have a beautiful smile, babe. Not too many teeth, not too shallow. You mean it. You like to make people smile, to make them happy. Oh, baby, am I going to have fun with you. Opposites attract they say. And you are proving the rule. With that smile…

Yeah, you want this. You want it bad. 

How long has it been, babe, since you’ve been satisfied by a man? Earth Mothers are always hungry. Voracious. I like that. You got a little pudge, but I can work with that. You may not be a supermodel, but you’re no fat cow either. You take care of yourself and that’s good, babe. Means you’re ready. 

But when you’re with me, you won’t need to worry. I’ll take care of you. 

I’ve never tried an Earth Mother before, seemed like too much work. But, you’ve made a convert out of me, babe. Bet you got a great-tasting cunt. I’m so hard right now thinking about your cunt, while I’m ringing you up. Staring down your shirt at the top of your pale tits, imaging your pussy all wet and bittersweet. Thank God for the counter between us. Don’t want to spook you. Not yet. 

_ The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo _ , a popular book for chicks. Not enough sex or action for me, babe, but go for it. A girl your age needs to be up on the ‘faves’. You’ll read it, like it, and talk about it with your girlfriends. It won’t rock your world, not like I will, but you’ll enjoy it. 

“This is a good book,” I tell you, as I scan the barcode. “You’ll like it.”

“That’s what I hear,” you say. What a tease. You’re one slight breeze away from flashing your tits at the world and you won’t give me more than a throwaway affirmation. 

God! Raping you would be so much fun, babe. 

Don’t worry, though, I know you’re not that kind of girl.

You are not the one-and-done, use’em up and dump’em type. Some girls that’s all they’re good for. One-hit wonders. You though, you got more to give. Hidden behind your showy smile and your awesome tits there’s a whole world in there waiting for me to plunder. And I will, babe. You can count on that. 

_ If We Were Villains _ ? Pretentious, Shakespeare crap. Babe. Seriously? Were you a fat theater kid in school? Did one of your English teachers touch you in a bad place? I mean murders are exciting and all, but you can do better, babe. This is tame shit. Literary thriller shit. 

“Are you into Shakespeare?”

“Not really,” you admit with a shrug, grinning like you’ve been a naughty girl who’s been caught sneaking cookies. “Some of his stuff is okay, but I actually have to read this for a class.”

Class, huh? You’re too old to be in high school. Not that you look old, babe, but a girl your size can only pull off seventeen for so long. You’re not some skinny, stick of a thing that could pass for twelve under the right conditions. You, babe, are a woman. My woman. “College?”

You nod. “Parttime.”

“Gotta work, huh?”

“Yeah, don’t we all.” Blue collar roots. I can hear it in your voice. The bitterness of not being able to afford the latest thing growing up, of working over summer breaks, of missing out on vacations and trendy clothes and concerts. I know how you feel, babe. I really do. And when you’re with me, I’ll make sure and get you pretty things from time to time. When you’re a good girl. 

Your third book, I haven’t read. Don’t recognize the title or the author, couldn’t care less. I ring it up all the same. Obscure. You don’t mind searching, trying out new things. That’s good, babe. So many chicks are close-minded, scared of the world, and they’re not wrong to be, I’m proof positive of that, but not you. 

You are curious. A small risk taker. Nothing too extreme. Just an odd book here, a stolen lipstick there. Maybe a little flirting to get out of a ticket. You’ve certainly got the rack for it. Man, I can’t wait to get my hands on you! Your tits were made to be played with, babe. I mean it. You’ve got a body meant to be used. And I’ve got dibs.

When you’re mine, I’m going to leave my mark. Bites on your tits, bruises on your thighs, handprints on your ass. And you just begging for more like the painslut you are. Or will be, at any rate. You’ll learn to love the pain, babe. I’ll teach you. After all, pain and pleasure go hand in hand like life and death. You can’t have one without the other. And I promise to show you just how good all of it can feel! 

You pay with your debit card like a good girl. Guine Roots? Wow. Guinevere would be an odd enough name for a white girl, but to shorten it to Guine and not Gwen? Your parents are assholes, babe. No two ways about it. “Guine. Cool name.”

“Oh, thanks,” you say, the surprise clear in your voice. Poor thing. Do people call you Gwine like wine or Gweene like green? Most people are idiots. Forget them, babe. Me? I’m not an idiot, which you’ll discover for yourself soon enough. “I think you’re like the third person ever to get it right on the first try.”

I shrug, playing it cool. “You see a lot of names in retail,” I explain. I tear your receipt free and bag your books, handing them over to you with a flirty wink. 

You blush, just a bit. Pretty and pink. “Thank you, Ramsay,” you tell me after reading my name tag. It’s a nice change of pace for someone to read it without immediately yelling for a manager. You got class, babe. And none of that self-righteous, entitled bullshit that so often goes with it. 

“Every time,” I reply. That makes you chuckle. “You’re welcome, Guine.”

“See you around,” you offer as you take your new books and head out. There’s no doubt: you want me. Of course you do. I know how hot I am. Plus, I got your name right and made you laugh. I’m in. 

I watch your little ass swish side to side. The little bell above the door dings and you are gone, but I’m still hard as a fucking rock, babe. You got me so hot, I ditch the register and instantly head to the far back corner where all the reference books are kept. 

I rub one out into the ST through SY volume of one our dictionary collections. I do this a lot when I’m bored. I’ve busted a nut into each volume of every single dictionary on these shelves. I figure any dumbass stupid enough to buy a physical dictionary deserves to find semen-spots on their pages. 

Today’s selection is from shelf three out of five. I’m halfway through our stock and it’s only March. But today, right now, I bust my load in record time because of you, babe. You’ve got me going, Guine. Had me hard just looking at you, just imaging hearing you moan and scream my name while I’m buried inside your sweet cunt. 

Streptococcus has never been so sexy, babe as it is with my jizz all over that page with thoughts of you running around my head. 

You are going to be so much fun.


	2. You & Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay makes the first move.

I can see you.

Just so you know, babe, you need to invest in a better security system. Honestly anything would be better than that deadbolt you got on the door. Easy pickings, babe. Your two locks didn’t give me any trouble. I waited for you to go to class, and for your neighbors to go to work one morning and just helped myself inside. Simple. 

You should get a guard dog. Me? I love dogs. Keep a whole pack of bitches around all the time. You’re going to love them. They can maul a man to death, you know? But I suppose once we’re together they’ll be your guard dogs too, huh, babe.

You’re tidy. I like that. Not crazy OCD-clean, but like normal clean. You’ve got a couple dishes in the sink from breakfast, you’ve got a few too many tchotchkes on your shelves, plus that small pile of your dirty clothes on the floor next to your hamper. I help myself to a pair of your panties just left lying there on the ground. You smell delicious, babe. And I need to start getting my bitches used to your scent. I want them to know you when you come over to my place for the first time. Makes things so much easier. 

Since I’m here, I go ahead and set up all my cameras. I have to keep my eye on you, babe. Naughty skanks like you need constant supervision. I put some in every room including the bathroom. I know that’s gross, but I can’t learn about what you like if I can’t be near you. And right now, these cameras are as close as I can get without you freaking out. Honestly, babe, I’ve got your best interests at heart. The world is full of psychos. You need me to take care of you, to keep you safe.

Nifty little things, these cameras. You wouldn’t even know that’s what they are unless you picked one up and started toying with it. Handy for hiding and spying which is why I bought them for us. So now I can watch over you from either of my devices: my computer for when I’m home and my phone for when I’m not. This shit is genius, babe! 

Would you like to hear what I’ve learned so far?

When you’re alone in your tiny apartment you like to go around topless. Sometimes, when you’re staying in on the weekend, you even go around in nothing but your panties like the skank you truly are. These days I jerk off to you being you, rather than porn. On days like this you are all mine. 

Exactly as it should be, babe. 

Except for that guy you’re banging. 

Who is this punk ass bitch?

Theon?

Ugh. What a dumb name for a shitshow like him.

You can do so much better, babe. This Theon ass-hat doesn’t love you, he’s no good for you. He doesn’t know how to treat you right. He pounds away at you with his ugly cock, dumps a load, and then heads out. No cuddles, no reciprocation, no eating you out. If you don’t come, he doesn’t care. 

You’re nothing to him, babe. Just one of the many, many comedumps he keeps in rotation all around town. All around the world. 

Harsh, but true. 

He’s nothing but a preening, rich fuckboy. 

Tonight, he finishes quick, tossing his used condom onto your table because he’s an asshole, leaving you wet and frustrated. He is so gross, babe. Probably riddled with disease. It’s a good thing you make him wear rubbers. Otherwise I’d have to kill him, right now. And you too probably. 

But I don’t want to kill you. Not yet. I want to enjoy this chase. 

I want us to last, babe.

Once he’s gone, though, we come to my favorite part. You’re unsatisfied. He does this sometimes, so you don’t even think about it. You just grab that long throw pillow on your couch and slip it between your wet thighs. I instantly get hard. 

You do things to me, babe. I like it. I like the rush. You grind against your favorite pillow, moaning softly for me. When we’re together you’ll never use that pillow again. Not unless I’m the one holding it for you. 

You were close so you come fast. You sigh and sag, sinking into your couch. I wait to see which way things go. Sometimes, babe, you rub one out and then you’re done. Kinda boring, but I understand. Maintenance. You don’t want to overdo it. Be labelled a slut like your friends. And they are sluts, babe. Trust me. I’ve looked into them.

But other nights, like tonight when Theon Shit-Stain doesn’t deliver, you don’t settle for one orgasm. I grin as you slowly start grinding that pillow again. “Baby girl,” I mumble to my computer screen. 

I take out my cock and stroke in time with you. Your moans are better than porn, babe. I mean it. Because you’re mine. Tonight, I can tell you are going to go for it. So needy. You’re rolling your hips, building to a point, taking your time. Such a tease, babe. I’m right there with you.

Your second orgasm hits…

But it’s not enough is it? 

Aw, my little skank. You need it bad tonight, don’t you? 

You shift around on the couch so your pillow is leaning on the armrest and you go at it! You are humping that thing like a bitch in heat. So hot, babe!

This is what it’ll be like with us, babe. 

Hot. Frenzied. Multiple orgasms. 

It’s what you deserve, babe. And I’m going to give it to you. 

I jerk off hard and fast now, my hand tight around my shaft. Your moans make me shiver, babe. I close my eyes and dream about bursting into your apartment and taking you. Showing you how good a real man can be. 

You are going to come so hard for me, babe. I am going to leave you so sore. You are going to love being my woman. My girl. My comedump. My bitch. I can’t wait to see my jizz leaking out of your red, puffy pussy, babe. 

Babe!

I shoot my load under my desk where one of my girls is waiting to lick it up off the floor. They love the taste of my jizz and you will too, babe. Whichever one she is, flicks her tongue around my cock, scraping my slit for every drop, cleaning my hand for me. She’s a good dog. 

Don’t worry, though, babe, once you are mine, the dogs won’t get to eat my loads. They’ll be all yours. I’ll even keep them penned if that matters to you. 

After your third orgasm you fall back onto the couch, lethargic and giddy. You absently rub your cunt, gathering slick on your fingers so you can taste yourself. Unnnng. You dirty skank. I like girls that aren’t afraid of how they taste. Of how men taste. You’re a swallower. Through and through. 

The thought of pounding your throat makes my dick twitch in my hand. Ginger won’t stop licking me. You are done for the night. Since you’re alone there is no reason to keep chasing that high. When you’re with me, there will be a reason. I’ll keep it going ‘til it hurts. And then further. 

Pain and pleasure, babe, are the stuff of life.

I bat Ginger away and she yelps softly before scurrying out from under my desk. She knows when she’s been dismissed. I keep watching you: catching your breath, idly touching yourself, stretching like a cat along your couch. All laid out for me, you sexy minx. 

Myranda walks over to my side, her nails clicking on the wood floors. I pet her and she stares at the screens with me. You sit up and pull on your skirt forgoing your panties. You pick up that worm’s used rubber and throw it away properly. He’s disrespectful, babe. I don’t like it. You may not be noble, but you can’t let him treat you this way. 

Why do you let him fuck you, babe? 

Is it because he’s rich? 

I’m rich. Probably, richer than he is. 

Is that why you let him touch you? Are you actually a whore? 

No, I don’t think so. He never leaves cash and your checking account doesn’t get a bump after he’s used you. Yes, I’m keeping tabs on your money, babe. I need to know what kind of girl you are and what better way to suss that out than analyzing your purchases and your credit history?

So it isn’t about money. 

It can’t be love. 

You fuck him, but you don’t seem to moon over him like some lovesick tween. And it sure as hells can’t be about the sex. I mean he leaves you dangling so many times, it can’t be fun. It’s routine. Habit. One I’ll have to break you of. Or him.

“I love new toys,” I murmur to Myranda. She sniffs. You, I want to keep. Him, on the other hand, could be so much fun. Guys like him are useless in the sack and pretty much everywhere else, but I can teach him, babe. Show him what he really is: a spineless, meaningless worm. I’ll teach him to respect you. Have him call you mistress or some shit once he’s been broken. 

It’ll be easy. With rich boys like him, it’s always easy. 

Easy, but so much fun. 

You’re tired, but you can’t keep your hands away from your clit. I knew you were a slut. I can’t help but laugh as you slowly get yourself all hot and bothered again. I love the way you think, babe. I knew you were the girl for me! 

I’m always up for another round!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos welcome!


End file.
